


All of life

by MMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Planet, Crossover, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Romance, Smut, Stranded, but it's mild i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: When Coulson and Daisy are sucked into the fear dimension while trying to close the rift, they find themselves alone in a barren landscape where all they can do is fight to survive, and all that they have is one another.That's until, eventually, they find others in a very similar situation.





	All of life

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Nearly Forget](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734093) by [rosa_lunae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_lunae/pseuds/rosa_lunae). 



“How long has it been?”

Coulson has to stop for a breath before answering.

“A few hours, at least.”

“Uh” Daisy agrees, noncommittally.

They trudge on. The barren landscape and the heat intense enough to distort the horizon make every step laborious. The sky is an eerie orange light, but there's no sun discernible to the eye. The sameness of the place induces walking in circles, but Daisy has been stacking rocks on the way every dozen feet or so, so they know where they have been.

Daisy steps on something harder than the rough sand that covers the ground. Grabs at Coulson's jacket to still him as well.

“What's it?” He asks. Daisy bends down to uncover something hidden by the sand. It gleams in the harsh light, metallic and flat. She pulls it out, arms straining.

“A sword.” She studies it. The handle is a darker shade than the blade, an intricate design of vines forming the image of what looks like a dragon. The whole thing is longer than Daisy's upper body, and so solidly heavy she has to rest it against the ground after only a few seconds studying it. She tests the edge of the blade and is surprised to discover it's very sharp.

“That's a good sign. There might be civilization of some kind here.” Daisy is interrupted in her perusal of the weapon by Coulson's words.

“Yeah. We don't know how long this has been here, though.” She looks at it a bit longer, then gives it to Coulson when he motions for it. Watches him analyze the weapon. He has droplets of sweet running down his face, as she does. They need to find water.

“It doesn't look too old. It's still sharp.” He says. Daisy nods in agreement. He gives it back to her and starts walking again.

“Should I leave this here?”

He looks at her, shrugs. Daisy considers the weight of the thing briefly, before dragging it behind her as she walks. The lines it makes on the sand are good distraction.

 

* * *

 

They find water. A good forty miles and ten hours later. By then, they can barely keep moving, haven't had a spare breath to talk in a few hours. Thoughts of bacteria and virus; of parasites and piranhas run thorough both their heads, right before they bend down and almost throw themselves into the water, dunking their faces in to drink. They have no way of purifying it, and if they don't hydrate, they will die sooner. The water is cold, colder than it should be in such sweltering heat. It tastes a bit metallic, but not dirty.

Daisy comes up for air first, gasping. She washes her face and tries not to think about the fact that the water she just drank is dark enough she can't see her hands as she plunges them in it. Coulson comes up just as she is considering taking her shoes off and putting her legs in. But thoughts of 'this is an alien planet' and 'there could be an alien thing with lots of teeth there' come back with a force, so she just sits back and breathes.

Coulson washes his face and hands as well, before sitting down beside Daisy. Now, dripping only water.

He lets out a deep breath.

“We might just survive this.”

Daisy's mouth twitches.

“It would surprise me if we didn't.” The amount of things they have already survived. She smiles at him. “It's not your first time in an alien planet.”

 

* * *

 

The night is not as cold as Coulson feared. Neither as dark. The sky still offers a light hue, even without a moon. The weather is chilly, but bearable. Daisy snores softly beside him, exhausted by their journey. His bones feel like lead, and yet, he can't make his brain stop.

It was a bad decision, going to close the rift by himself, when he knew nothing would stop Daisy from trying to save him. It was even worse, when she showed up and so did her fears. At least, even if both of them were sucked into this dimension, he knows the rift was closed. He just hopes they can find their way back.

But for a fear dimension, this isn't as bad as he would have thought. There is water, there is relief from the heat at night, there's breathable air. Coulson's eyes start to drop, pulled down by tiredness. His thoughts muddle, but continue on that route. There is also Daisy, and he will tell her she snores when they wake up, even if the sound she makes is low enough no one would really categorize it as such.

The sound of sand shifting reaches Coulson's ears. His eyes open, his heart beats fast. Before he can react, there is a shrill, horrible sound, coming from up him, from the open mouth of something he can't quite discern fully. He yells, and when the thing goes down to make him a meal, he holds it at bay by it's neck. But it's strong.

He has no time to do anything. However, just as he's sure he will be mauled by the creature, something cuts the air with an audible sound, glistening in the night, lodging itself deep into the monster's skull.

Coulson lets the heavy body fall beside him. He sits up, breathing deeply to try to calm his heart beat. Daisy looks at him, still holding the bloodied sword, eyes wide.

“What the fuck was that?” She asks. Coulson has no answer.

 

* * *

 

Morning comes a few hours before what feels right, so they know nights where they are last less than on Earth. The thing they killed lies under the sweltering heat, literally cooking under the sky. Coulson and Daisy sit as they discuss what can be done, if they should explore more, wait, go back. If there is any way that they, themselves, can find to go back home. If it's safe to immerse themselves completely in the lake, to escape the punishing heat.

There are no answers in sight. They wait, night comes, they sleep. There are no new attacks. In the morning, they notice the heat cooked the thing Daisy killed almost thoroughly; Coulson cuts bits of it carefully with the sword; They eat.

On the third night, a new monster comes. Coulson is on alert this time, doesn't need Daisy to come for the rescue. He kills it, fast and efficient, even if it's quite bigger than the first one. The next day, Daisy scavenges and scavenges until she finds flint rocks. She looks for something to light on fire, but there is nothing, not until she discovers she doesn't need anything. The monsters catch on fire so easily it's almost like they are flammable. Daisy cooks the most recent one, and they are both too hungry to be shy or squeamish, so they eat their fill. Surprisingly, it helps. The next morning they are strong enough that they store as much meat and water as they can, before setting on a march forward again.

Their journey lasts four days. They find something akin to a forest, one made of strange, dead-looking trees and with a river so large they will take days to walk around it. There's no rain, no life besides the monstrous creatures they encountered. But there is water, oxygen, dead-trees that might not be really dead. There is also nothing, most of the time, other than the both of them.

Daisy finds a smooth black stone and carves all the days they have been there for, as tiny as she can. Eight.

 

* * *

 

On the twelfth day, exploring the shore of the river, Coulson finds a black ax. It reminds him of Mack, he takes it as a good sign.

 

* * *

 

The monsters appear more often here, near this bigger body of water. At day, at night. They sleep in turns, never at the same time. It means there is always enough meat, and it means they always need to be alert. Coulson distracts himself one night by studying carefully the lines of Daisy's face against the shimmering of the fire they built, her jaw line, cheekbones, the way her eyelashes make a soft shadow over her skin. He almost loses an arm to a slithering monster that appears suddenly, from under the sand. Daisy has to get up to help him with it, and after, to cauterize and cover his wound.

They both sit awake, the rest of the night. Daisy clutches his uninjured arm with a grip that hints at desperation. He doesn't ask her about it, just lets her do it, let's her be near him in a way that shouts impropriety, for how close and how long it lasts. The first few days, he noticed how much he stank. How much she did, too. Sweat, unwashed bodies, fear. Now, he must have gotten used to it, somehow, because he feels nothing but comforted by Daisy's scent, as she holds on to him.

 

* * *

 

“I miss Cap'n Crunch.” Coulson takes a hearty bite out of what used to be a monster's foreleg. “So much.” He munches.

Daisy grunts in agreement.

“Frhoot Loohp'.” She speaks with her mouth full. Coulson nods.

They eat in companionable silence for a moment.

“Even Raisin Bran.” Says Daisy, as if it's only barely better than eating monster meat everyday. Coulson gives her a look.

“Raisin Bran is delicious.” He says firmly.

“Yeah, if you're a hundred.” Daisy whispers, a little too loud.

“Hey!” He thinks a bit. “Well, I'm 52. 'Guess I'm closer to a hundred.” Now she gives him a look.

“You're way too young to like Raisin Bran.” Is Daisy's final word on the subject.

There is silence. They finish eating, wash their faces and hands. Sit down on their makeshift abode, a few logs forming a bench. The floor is actually softer, so they still sleep on it, but it's good for sitting. Coulson suddenly remembers something.

“How many days have you marked? That we have been here for?” Daisy needs a moment to dig up the smooth black stone and count the marks.

“Fifty-six.” They don't comment on how sad this is. It's not even as if they feel like they can, yet. Jemma was on an alien planet, living with perpetual night, alone and then with a stranger, for almost 200 days. They feel lucky, in comparison. They have day light, they have each other. Also, the monsters they face seem quite irrational. Just creatures, not sentient. Not Hive.

Still, it sucks. When they left, it was June. Fifty-six days means it's almost August. Coulson hopes the team figured out the Destroyer of Worlds thing. It's clearly not Daisy, but he already knew that.

Also.

“I suppose I'm 53 now. Even closer to old enough to like Raisin Bran.”

Daisy snorts at that.

“Happy Birthday, A.C.” She teases.

“Oh, that nickname needs to stay dead.” He laughs.

“Sure, bossman.” She touches her shoulder to his, a habit she acquired the first week here.

“That's terrible.” He chuckles at her.

“What about… Phil?” She waggles her eyebrows, expecting him to say no.

“Sure, if you want to call me that.”

“Really? So it takes us stranded possibly forever in an alien planet, by ourselves, for you to let me call you by your first name?”

He shrugs.

“Can you think of a fairer reason, Daisy?”

She actually stops to think.

“Not really.”

 

* * *

 

 

Some nights, Phil thinks about Melinda. Really, he thinks about her everyday. About Fitz, Simmons, Mack, Elena and even Deke, too, every single day. If they are okay, if they are alive. If the world is still in one piece. But some nights, when he is as alone as he can be, while Daisy sleeps, he thinks of Melinda.

He wonders how she is. If she misses him as much as he does her. If what he feels is even real, ever was, what it could have been if he had let it. Truth is, he thought about Melinda every night before he was stranded here. Before they went to the future. Even before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. He spent years of his life thinking about Melinda.

But now. It's just some nights. He thinks about her every day. However, he thinks about _them_ , sometimes.

* * *

 

“I had a squirrel, once.” Is Daisy's conversation opener.

“You let a squirrel inside one of my bases?” Is Coulson's mock-horrified answer.

“When I was a kid, _Philll_.” She drags his name, as she often does now, relishing in her right to use it.

“Where did you get it?” His curiosity is picked.

“I found it on the street. It was small and I wanted to take care of it. So I caught it with an umbrella and took it back with me.”

“The nuns didn't notice it?”

“Nope.” She sounds proud. “Well, not at first; eventually they found it and took it away.”

“How long did you have it for?”

“Two months.”

“Two months?!”

“We had our own rooms. I kept it in the closet when someone would show up, otherwise it just stayed with me. I stole food to give to it.” She smiles at the memory.

“What was it called?” Phil conforms to the fact that Daisy was strange even as a child.

“Sneeps.”

“Uh.”

A beat goes by.

“I had a tortoise for almost thirty years.”

“What?! Really? What was it called?”

“She was called Nina. Not very creative, I know, but my father named her. I was a baby when he got her.”

“Wow, so you grew up together. How sweet.” Daisy bumps her shoulder to his.

“Yes. I had her as long as I could, but they live up to 150 years. Eventually I was too busy with work to care for her, so I took her to a wildlife shelter. I'm sure she is happier there, than with me. A lot more space and folks her own species.” He shrugs, smiles at her.

“Sure. But she must miss you, anyways.”

He sighs.

“I do miss her.”

“Why didn't you visit?”

“I'm not sure. Never really had time.”

“Uh.”

Daisy cuddles up against his side.

“Maybe someday.” He mumbles.

 

* * *

 

Daisy and Coulson finish the monsters. Two of them, big, strong ones. Daisy limps to a log nearby, let's herself fall on it like a sack of potatoes.

Coulson asks her, after he gets his breath back.

“How long?”

“One hundred and sixty days.”

He grunts in response.

Coulson studies his chest that night, while he bathes. The dark wound in the middle of it is the exact same since they first got here. _Why isn't this killing me?_ He has no answer.

 

* * *

 

Day 200 marks something, somehow. Neither are sure what it is, exactly. Either way, by mutual agreement, they pack. Start the journey around the river, unsure how long it will last, where it will end. Every night, they sleep in turns.

Daisy enjoys falling asleep with her head on Coulson's legs, so he can play with her hair. It relaxes her, assures her he is next. When she's asleep, he usually moves her away carefully, so he can be ready for the predators in the night. Sometimes, however, he doesn't. He buries his fingers in her hair instead, feeling the somehow still soft and smooth strands, traces paths on her face with his fingers, softly as to not awake her. Watches her more than he should, his chest heavy with how much he wishes she was anywhere but here, but still so grateful to have her.

It's strange, how Daisy's face has become his whole world. Coulson feels like it's all he sees, every waking moment. At day, when he looks around, beside him. At night, as he watches it. Asleep, as he dreams it. She looks the same, exactly, as when they left. Despite their journey, despite the fact their diet has consisted solely of questionable water and alien meat, her face looks exactly the same. Beautiful and strong and just Daisy.

The scar on his arm, from that slithering monster, seemingly from a life-time ago. Huge and pink a few weeks before. Is gone, now.

Something about this place, is _different._

 

* * *

 

They walk, and walk. For days, weeks, months. They hit the one year mark, carve make-shift cups out of wood and toast water, to their one year of being stranded, alone together, fighting for their lives. Every day, the further they walk, the more monsters appear. The bigger, the faster, the stronger they get.

But Daisy and Coulson are stronger and faster as well. Used to this hardened life. They take care of the creatures, take care of each other, and keep on going.

 

* * *

 

There is nothing to do. If they aren't sleeping, eating, or fighting monsters. Nothing to do, but talk. So talk they do.

“How was Melinda? Before Bahrain.”

“Almost completely different.”

“How so?”

“Well, she was always exceptionally competent. Loyal. A good agent. But she used to be funny. Fun. Open. Made jokes even while on missions. Pranked everyone.”

They have already talked about her, many times. Coulson has told Daisy all of their stories, or the ones Melinda wouldn't murder him for sharing. But this time, Daisy goes off the script.

“Do you miss her?”

“Of course. Don't you?”

“Yep, like a phantom limb. But were you ever together, you know, that way?” He looks at her, surprised by her bluntness. She shrugs.

“No, not really.” He decides there is no use, being shy with Daisy. She has seen him naked now more often than any woman in his life aside from his mother. She has seen him wounded, beaten, at his wits' end. She has protected him as he slept, and she has saved his life a couple hundred times. He has done the same for her. There is no point on modesty in their relationship, anymore.

“Do you wish you had been?”

Coulson thinks about it, for a moment.

“I don't think so.”

“Why?”

“I'm here now. Maybe we will get back. We probably won't.”

They hit the 500 days last week. Daisy doesn't argue.

“Maybe this is all of life, for us.” He says.

Daisy looks at the ground.

“Maybe.” She agrees. Her forehead has a frown carving it. Coulson notices, puts his arm around her shoulder, brings her close.

“I don't mind it too much, if I get to be with you.” He kisses her cheek, his affection for her so strong he just wants to envelop her like a cocoon and not let go. He doesn't, but she smiles at him, hugs him back.

“Me too.”

 

* * *

 

They won't stop coming. It has been hours, fighting non-stop, but the second they finish a wave of monsters, more pop up. Tireless, sword swinging, Daisy has been cutting them. Heads, legs, tails. So has Coulson. But his arms strain, the ax feels so heavy. A monster catches him in it's grip, tight like an anaconda, he can't breathe. Daisy cuts it away at the last second, a terrified glint in her eyes as she finishes the monsters with a fury he didn't know was still in her.

When there are none left, she drops her sword, kneels on the ground in front of him. She's covered in blood, head to toe, none of it is hers. Some of what is in him, is his.

Daisy clutches his face, looking for injuries. Runs her fingers through his hair, checking his scalp. She finds a cut on his arm and another on his leg. Calms down when she realizes they are minor and require nothing more than cleaning.

“Are you okay?” He asks her, when she's done checking him.

Daisy closes her eyes, gets up and starts shedding her clothes, no modesty whatsoever, before dunking in the river. He follows her. They discovered, the monsters are never in the water.

Coulson rubs the dried blood off his skin, gives Daisy a moment to do the same. He swims close to her.

“Daisy, are you okay?” He tries again. She doesn't look at him, but doesn't run away. He gives her time, space, just waits. Studies the graceful flawlessness of the curve where her shoulder meets her neck, the tiny hairs making a path down on it, until they become so small he needs to be closer to see them. The tiny patch of metal on her neck, smothering her powers still.

Suddenly, she turns, comes closer. Face to face, inches from touching her body to his. He studies her face, as he always does, even if he feels like he knows it better than anyone's.

“I can't lose you.” Her voice is tight, low. She purses her lips unhappily, and Coulson has the urge to do something so she doesn't.

“You won't. I'm sorry, I will do better.” He touches her face softly, his thumb running from her cheek to mouth, which she relaxes at his touch. She closes her eyes, when she opens them, tears fall. He wipes them.

“You better.” She says, before closing the distance. For a moment, Coulson stills, thinking she is going to kiss him. She rests her head on his shoulder, instead, hugs his upper body tight, soft breasts pressing against his chest. He's sure he can just about feel her pubic hair brushing his lower belly.

He hugs her back, tight. He still has feelings for Melinda and until before they were here, Daisy's main role in his life was as a daughter figure, the one he never got to have. But he is human, and she is a woman he loves desperately, beautiful and strong and not actually related to him in any way.

Coulson's lips touch her neck, not a kiss, really, just him wanting to feel her, burying his face on her shoulder. But his body is reacting to hers, inevitably. This is Daisy and she is all he has, all he wants right now, and the desire to simply be closer, somehow, is unbearable.

She opens her legs, hooks them around his hips. His hardness presses directly against her warm core, and Coulson thinks that if the monsters didn't kill him, this might. The points of her hard nipples pressing against him are driving him out of his mind.

He pulls his face away from her shoulder, to look at her. Daisy, with her sloped eyes and perfect nose and beautifully drawn, pink lips. His Daisy, eyes still a bit wet, slightly red. He kisses her cheek, her cheekbone, the side of her face, her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her chin, her mouth. Once, twice, runs his tongue on her lower lip, coaxing her to open. She does, and they kiss, fully, all tongues and hands holding each others' faces in place. Her taste makes his head spin.

Daisy pulls away, looks at him. Her heart feels too big for her chest. The words run out of her, unruly, even though every single time, no fault, she has said them in her life, they came back to bite her. But she never learns, and so, she says them.

“I love you.”

But Coulson knows, of course he does. It's no surprise. He kisses her.

“I love you.” not _too_. Coulson feels like he always has, even if he knows he didn't. Did he already love Daisy when she was still Skye? Yes, he did. Did he already love Daisy before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell? He must have. Did he love Daisy when she saved him from losing his mind? He thinks so. Was it the moment she showed him all she wanted, to find a family? Or could it be the very first time he saw her? He knows it wasn't. He knows she meant something, but not that much, back them. But she must have, for a love this strong must have always existed, in some form.

Daisy tightens her legs around him, rubs her core on his hardness.

“I need you.” She says, desperation in her voice.

“I need you.” He responds, one hand sliding down to explore her soft, firm curves. All of her, soft and smooth, firm and strong at once.

“I want you.” She whispers to him, almost like a secret, a plea.

“I want you.” He echoes, his desire undeniable. He pulses and twitches against her slickness, helpless to the desire to rub and press against it.

They kiss, Coulson feels Daisy's hand, strong and calloused; small and delicate, slide down to hold him, guide him to her entrance. The feel of it is already almost too much, but he pushes in, holding her to his body so tightly it's like he's afraid she's going to slip away. Sheer desperation to make this moment last longer holding him together. She clutches at him, just as tightly. Daisy mews on his ear at the penetration, a soft and vulnerable sound that makes a base part of his brain urge him to bury himself in her, again and again, hard and deep.

But he waits instead, for her to unclench around him, to relax the frown on her face that hints at too much, to start moving her own hips against his. When she does, he lets go, driving himself in and out of her tight core, grabbing and clutching at her, same as she grabs and clutches at him. She kisses and kisses him, bites his lips until it hurts and then his neck. Her nails sharp on his shoulders. Moans and shudders and groans, and so does he, grunting at every hard trust inside.

Coulson has known love, passion, desire; all-encompassing, breath-taking, life-changing. But somehow, this is beyond anything he ever experienced. He wants to disappear, whole, inside of her. Wants to bring her so close she disappears inside of him. Wants to consume her completely, be consumed by her. Daisy, his Daisy, his love, his world, his. He tastes her skin, her mouth, feels the depts of her around him in the most intimate way. The smell of her, the breathy sounds on his ears. Too much, not enough.

When Daisy's core clenches around him, tight, as she comes, Coulson thinks he's going to die. Pleasure so intense his vision spots, grunting and gasping, he comes himself. Vague thoughts of an unwanted pregnancy run through the back of his mind, warning him to pull out. But he doesn't, he can't, and her legs hold him so tight even if he tried, he wouldn't succeed. Instead, he pushes himself deep, so deep, once, twice, spurting inside her, again. He feels himself hit the very end, the deepest part of her, and his vision goes white with how hard he comes, right there.

They stay there, for a while. Coulson softens, but doesn't slip out, with how close they are. “I love you”, he tells Daisy first, this time, and she answers the same. Eventually, she moves in such a way her core clenches, and Coulson feels himself twitch, starting to harden again. The second time is slower, calmer, less desperate. But just as good, just as intense. After, they leave the water, spread their clothes on the sand and lay down. Coulson tastes Daisy, until she comes screaming on his tongue.

No monsters appear that night.

 

* * *

 

“You came inside of me.” Daisy comments, the next day, after they finish a big wave of creatures. She sounds vaguely worried.

“I don't think it will be a problem.” She glances at him, a question on her face. “You haven't lost weight.”

She snorts a laugh.

“Thanks, is that your subtle way to tell me I need to?” But she knows it isn't, so she just waits.

“My chest feels the same, as before we came. Not better, but not worse. We have been surviving on nothing but water and meat, for years now, and haven't lost any weight.” That gets her thinking.

“You think our bodies don't… change here, as they should? But I still get my period. We still get injured almost every other day.”

He shrugs, looks at her.

"I think there's a ceiling to it. We change, then we go back to the start. I'm not sure how long that window is, but it's certainly less than 9 months."

“What does that mean, for us?” She asks.

“For now, the important thing that it means is you won't get pregnant. Probably.”

For later, neither knew.

 

* * *

 

“What do the monsters feed on?” Coulson asks Daisy. It's not the first time one of them has brought up the subject, but that's true for every single thing they could possibly talk about. After a few years with nothing but one another, it feels like every content of their minds and lives has already been shared. It should be strange, how that bothers neither of them.

“I don't know. Each other, like we do them.” He collects a piece of dried wood from the ground, before continuing on.

“But we have never seen them attack one another. Just us.” She points out.

“Maybe they come from somewhere else.” Is Coulson's suggestion.

“If we keep walking, will we find it?”

“If we keep walking, maybe.” He bumps his shoulder to hers. “So, you, stop slowing us down.”

“Hey!” She smiles. “You are the old man.” Daisy teases.

“I look no older than 45, just so you know.”

“45 going on 60.” She frees a hand to touch his salt and pepper stubble.

“It has been what? Ten years.” There's bitterness in his tone, but less than one would have thought.

The smooth black rock ran out of space a long time ago. But Daisy got another one. One more, after. Now, she counts in her head, everyday. She knows Coulson does, too.

“Eight years, ten months, twenty-two days.”

 

* * *

 

 

“With as much trouble as we all got in to, do you think anyone is left alive?” Coulson cuts a tentacle that's coming for Daisy. The thing screeches loudly, he silences it.

“We were all great at getting out of trouble, too.” Daisy is taking a break, leaving the work for him. When she sees he is tired, she gets up to take over.

“Yeah.” He breathes out, as he sits to watch her fight.

 

* * *

 

They don't settle down again. This place is huge, deserted, hot and inhospitable. But the landscape changes slightly. Depending on which way they go, there's more monsters. Every couple of walking days, there's a body of water. Sometimes, there are even waterfalls.

At first, they avoid the direction that takes them towards bigger, more dangerous creatures. It's one, only. After a few more years, it seems like the only possible way to go.

“How long?” Coulson asks, exhausted, fighting a big wave of them.

“Too long.” Is all the time Daisy can spare to answer, before cutting and dicing.

 

* * *

 

“We are going crazy.” Coulson comments, one night. “Fifteen years in isolation. All textbooks say we should be bananas by now.”

Daisy grunts, holds him tighter. She is almost asleep, head on his legs.

“But you know what? I think we aren't. Right?” Her only answer is a soft breath out. Her nose twitches when he touches it. He smiles. “I think we are pretty sane, still.” She lets out a soft snore.

“Thank you, for not letting me go crazy.” He whispers to her, kisses her hair.

 

* * *

 

“We aren't aging.” Daisy points out, after a few hours of walking.

“Yep.” Coulson got the habit of saying that, from her, over a decade ago.

“It has been twenty years. We haven't aged at all.” Daisy's voice is empty. He looks at her.

“Does that worry you?” There's something vulnerable in his voice. It makes her think long and hard, before answering.

“A little, yes. If this is all of life for us. How long is that life going to last?”

“Do you want it not to?” He stops walking now, looks at her, intently. She avoids his eyes at first, but eventually glances at him.

“No.” She answers, firmly. But Coulson still feels like she stabbed him in the leg. And yet, he understands. The part that hurts the most, is that he understands.

He hugs her.

“I know. When… if you're ever ready to go, I will be too.” He kisses her, smells her hair. “We will go same as we go everywhere these days, together.”

“I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not anywhere near ready to go.” Is her answer. Her voice strong, but shaky.

“I love you. It's okay. I just want to be with you, always.” His hands tremble slightly, she holds them.

“I won't leave you, ever. Not on purpose, okay?” She rubs her face against his stubble, like a cat. It makes him smile.

“I know. Me neither.”

 

* * *

 

“I think… I think there's _someone_ there.” Of all the phrases Daisy has said to him these many years, this is one of the very few never said even once.

“You mean _some_ _thing_?” He frowns at her, his inspection of the sand under his boots as he walks interrupted by her voice.

“No, no! I mean someone. Look!” She points at the big waterfall coming up ahead. It takes a moment for Coulson to identify what she means in the fading light, but when he does, his heart doubles speed.

They don't need to say anything. Both drop all they carry but their weapons, and run. There's a form, almost the shadow, of a woman under one of the cascades of water. As they get closer, the form shifts, something about it hardening.

With a powerful battle cry, the woman appears completely, jumping a good ten feet up in the air, a sword raised.

Daisy manages to rise hers just in time for it to collide against the woman's. Sparks fly, and she is sure she won't last another second against such strength. But the woman stills, frowning. Glances at Coulson's terrified face, ax poised to throw, and back at Daisy's mix of confused, fearful and hopeful.

“Batman?” She calls, loudly.

An instant later, a shadow materializes. A man, dressed head to toe with heavy, black armor. Little pointed ears on his head, a bat symbol on his chest.

“Who are you?” He asks, voice rough. The woman let's Daisy up, taking a step back but keeping her sword at ready.

Daisy smiles, looks at Coulson – who still seems distrustful and worried – and answers.

“Hi! I'm Daisy, this is Phil. We are… just here. For a long time. Long, _long_ time. There was a portal and it sucked us here. I thought there was no one else in this place. I… We mean no harm. We were just so surprised to see people, after so long. I'm sorry if I startled you.” She babbles on. It reminds Coulson of Skye, and it uncoils the terrified thing in his chest, that almost gave him a heart attack when he saw Daisy in true danger.

That seems enough for the woman, who puts the sword down and smiles a gentle, unnaturally perfect smile at Daisy. She has gleaming dark hair, blue eyes and unmarred white skin. She is quite a bit taller than Daisy, and wears a red, gold and blue chest plate and skirt. Not quite a full armor, but it seems to afford protection.

“It's alright. I'm Diana.” She extends a hand to shake, which Daisy does. “This right there is Bruce.” Bruce looks at Diana disapprovingly, but she shrugs at him. “How long have you been here for?”

Daisy and Coulson glance at each other.

“About twenty-four years.”

They think that will surprise the others, but Diana just grunts and nods in sympathy.

“How long have you?” Coulson asks.

“Thirty-five, we think.” Batman nods in confirmation.

“Oh.” Daisy exclaims. Coulson feels like echoing her, but refrains.

 

* * *

 

“The horde is everlasting.” Bruce explains, later. He takes his cowl off, his face a simulacrum of the perfect male visage, strong jaw, blue eyes, dark hair. Sits down, drinking water from a canteen. “This is Gehenna, where hordes derived of the sin of men forever try to break into our realm. The Gentleman has kept them at bay, by himself, for thousands of years. We offered to take his mantle, to give him a rest. That was 35 years ago.”

“Hordes derived from the sin of man? Doesn't that seem a bit… far fetched?” Coulson asks, unsure.

Daisy just gives him a look.

“We were supposed to be in a fear dimension. 'Sins of man' seems like a similar enough theme, if you ask me.” That puts a confused frown on Diana's face. Bruce remains impassive.

“I concede that.” Coulson answers, before noticing their companions' confusion. “It's a long story, but basically some bad guys exploded very powerful stones that messed with space and time, creating a rift that connected our world to this place. Strange creatures that personified our worst fears started leaking out of the rift, so I had to try and close it using technology a friend created, and managed to get myself and Daisy sucked in.”

Just as he finishes, they hear the tall-tale screeching of monsters. There is no time to discuss the subject further, as the four fight for hours and hours to keep the creatures at at bay, eventually succeeding.

At night, there's a reprieve, so they talk more and rest. Bruce surprises Diana when he initiates conversation, asking complex questions to both Daisy and Coulson, about how the rift came to be, what the stones – monoliths – were. As they said, it's a long story, but one they try their best to tell. At times, they interrupt each other to mention important parts that were neglected, or to complement a piece of information. It's clear they have been a part of each others' lives for quite a while, before ever getting here.

“You're a metahuman.” Bruce states, when Daisy starts the tale of getting her powers, so they can better understand the fascination the alien race Kree had with her, in the future.

“That's not a word we use, but yes. There are enhanced individuals, who gain special abilities from experiments or technology, kinda like Captain America, there are those born different, usually refereed to as 'mutants', and then there's my kind.” Daisy explains.

“Your kind?” Diana inquires.

“Yes. We call ourselves Inhumans, we aren't born with powers, but with the potential to develop them if we ever are exposed to an element called Terrigen, which triggers Terrigenesis. Our powers are as diverse as people are. They can go from something as simple and harmless as growing wings, or the ability to sense if someone unchanged is one of our own, to extremely powerful or destructive powers, like mine. There are even Inhumans capable of seeing the future.”

There are so many questions running through Diana's mind, she doesn't know where to start. But Bruce beats her to speaking.

“What are your abilities?”

“Vibration manipulation. The first form my power manifested was through earthquakes. Not much fun. But I discovered with some training that I can focus it, use it in isolated points, even use it to decrease vibration. But it can be very destructive, if it gets out of hand. Which it did, at first, before I learned to control it.”

There's a moment of silence, as Bruce and Diana absorb the information. Coulson pokes the fire they have going, to not let it die.

“That is… a very strong ability, yes. I can see why the Kree pursued you such.”

“Yes, but I have limitations. My power hurts me, if I use it too much, too often. I have broken the bones in my arms so often they probably look like a terrible patch job by now. I don't have the kind of power they thought I do. For sure nothing anywhere close to strong enough to break a planet in half. Besides, the Kree put a device in me that stops it, and I don't plan on taking it off.” She taps against the metal in her neck, showing it to Diana and Bruce.

“You wouldn't be able to use your ability here, anyway.” Is Bruce's answer. “The Gentleman warned us that powers are severely hindered in this plane. Fighting prowess is much more important.”

“Uh.”

“Have you any special ability, Coulson?” Diana asks.

He shakes his head.

“I have only a hand lacking.” He lights up his left hand, to let them see. Bruce barely refrains from poking at it, especially when he sees how advanced the technology is. “Lost it to a Terrigen crystal, a few years before getting here. It was a form of it that's deadly to regular humans. If it feel on the ground and broke, releasing the mist, it would kill everyone in the room. So I grabbed it, lost only the hand instead. Other than that, I'm just a regular guy.”

Daisy snorts at that.

“Regular guy, sure.” She says ironically, but let's it go. “What about you guys?”

Diana glances at Bruce, a strange expression on her face.

“I suppose eleven years were sufficient for our popularity to decline.” She sounds doubtful as she says it.

“What do you mean by that?” Coulson inquires, confused.

“We were very well-known, before ending up here. It's strange that you know nothing of us, or what we are capable of. It's also strange we know nothing of the organizations you mentioned, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra.”

“What were you called, by the people?”

“I was Wonder Woman, he was the Batman. We were… are a part of a team of superheros, sworn to protect the world. It was called The Justice League, led by Superman.”

Coulson turns to study Daisy's expression, to make sure she's just as confused as he is.

“We have literally never, ever heard of any of these people. Not you, him, this Justice League or Super Man. We have heard of The Avengers, also a team formed to protect the world, by Coulson here himself. I've seen Iron Man in person once, when he left Stark Tower… and I also met Thor's friend, Lady Sif. But Coulson knew them all.”

“It was my job to know them. All people of interest. You probably both should have been on that list. It has Captain America, Black Widow, The Hulk, Hawkeye, Thor...”

“We know none of those names.”

There's a moment of silence.

“Captain American is the most famous hero in the world. Has been since World War II.” Coulson says.

“Is it possible, Bruce, that they are from yet a different dimension from our own?”

The man takes a few seconds before answering.

“There are infinite universes. As many as probabilities and outcomes possible. Yes, I would say they could be from one that may be similar, but not same as ours.”

Daisy and Coulson aren't sure what to say to that.

Diana explains, then, who she is, where she is from. Princess of the Amazons, her story is even more unbelievable than Thor's, and Coulson met the guy. Bruce is more reserved as he summarizes his many specialties – though he isn't enhanced – while avoids telling why or how they came to be.

Coulson would feel inadequate, near such powerful, incredible people. But he has been surrounded by those too often to let himself feel that way. Daisy's eyes shine with a sort of strong admiration, as she listens to Diana, and it reminds him of when they first met and she was still fascinated by any uncommon occurrence, thought superpowers were awesome and invisibility was 'so cool'.

Despite the fact Bruce and Diana seem as hopeless as Coulson and Daisy are to how get out of this dimension, and wouldn't even if they did know how to – someone needs to fight the horde – it's a balm, to know they are there.

 

* * *

 

Diana isn't too startled to discover the romantic nature of the others' relationship, not much later, when they kiss that night, before Coulson goes to sleep. Bruce noticed from the very first hour, from the little things, the touches and looks exchanged. Daisy and Coulson, however, are surprised that the other couple shows no signs of the same, even after a few weeks observing their behavior as they fight and live all together.

Daisy asks Diana about it, one night, while it's Bruce's and Coulson's turn to sleep. Why is it that, while they are so in sync in battle it's scary and clearly care deeply for each other, they aren't together romantically.

“Our hearts don't belong to us, to give them to each other. We hold on to hope that, one day, we shall go back.”

Daisy nods.

“I think my heart already belonged to Coulson long before we came here. It was just in a different way, I guess.”

“In what way?”

“He was family. Not you know, blood-related or anything. We were adult when we met, but we just became… close. I already loved him, so much, for years. Not romantically, then, but still a lot. He was always the person I turned to, when things got heavy. I think there were wounds and unsolved matters for both of us, when we got here, so it took us a while to just let those go and be together. But when we did, it felt like the most natural, true thing. Like it always existed, was always there.”

“I can see that. The way you look at him, he looks at you. I have that love as well, but not here.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Thank you. I feel selfish, for envying you. But I'm still glad he isn't here, suffering as we are.”

“I feel you, sis.” Diana smiles at Daisy's weird phrasing.

“Sister. I like that.”

 

* * *

 

Privacy becomes an issue, with the four living together so closely. Not modesty, per se, since Diana is completely unaware of the word's meaning, especially with Daisy – she's privy to men's issues with female nudity, but Bruce is used to her body by now, and Coulson is hopelessly in love with his Daisy. Coulson is happy enough to look away when either new companion bathes or needs some privacy, and Bruce seems glad to do the same.

But having a moment for themselves, as a couple, is a bit more complicated. They make do, not hiding kisses or lovingly words, respectfully taking moments for themselves, away from the others. Diana and Bruce seem to understand, and don't begrudge their love.

 

* * *

 

“For these tentacles, we discovered...” Diana stops to cut said appendages, demonstrating. “That if we remove the back ones, it promptly unbalances the creature, making it easier to manage.” As told, the monster falls back with a deafening screeching, before Diana puts it out of its misery with an economic dicing motion. “Cutting the front ones injuries it, of course, but they manage to keep going.”

Daisy grunts in agreement, mimicking her actions with a slightly smaller tentacled monster of her own.

“Those were always my least favorite. They take so long to kill. Not anymore.” She smiles at the other woman.

Coulson, who was taking care of two smaller, legged creatures, listens in on the conversation.

“I hate the slithery ones. They always catch me by surprise.” Almost by prophecy, one rises from the sand suddenly, going for him. But Bruce pins it to the ground with a perfectly timed knife-throw. “What I just said.” Coulson grunts. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.” Bruce answers. “The worst, for me, are the winged ones. They remember me we can't fly.” And in fact, they are a pain to kill, flying out of their reach every time they get the upper hand. But Diana can usually jump high enough to take them down. Coulson and Daisy had never seen one of those before arriving here, apparently, the place where all the monsters converge to.

“Which sin derives each type of creature, you think?” Daisy asks.

“I'm sure the ones that slither must be lust. That phallic shape and slimy skin suggest such. I feel as if you two might be contributing to it.” Diana teases.

“Very funny, you're learning.” Daisy sounds proud.

“The huge dragon-y types are either gormandize or greediness.” Coulson chips in.

“I don't think these are the types of sins that would generate these beings.” Bruce cuts in on their fun. “Probably murder, rape, egoism, false testimony. Things that culminate in strong suffering.”

Diana sighs.

“We know, Bruce. And how many dimensions' sins are we even fighting here, if our friends aren't from ours? I have no idea. Maybe they are only the very worst, cruelest sins.”

“That, somehow, manifested as worst fears, when they leaked into our world.” Coulson comments. “What was that about?” He finishes a big, multiple-headed monster, without much fuss.

“Perhaps this dimension is linked differently to your world. Perhaps the manifestations of fear were simply an artifice to take over. Or maybe those things are connected; fear turns people cruel, evil. Gives power to these creatures, this place.”

“That's as good a theory as any.” Daisy agrees. “I just wish I knew how our world is doing. How the team is. It has been twenty-five years. So much must have changed.”

“Yes. It must have.” Bruce is the one who answers.

 

* * *

 

In the end, there's no time to say goodbye. They are all fighting, as they have been the last two years, together, in synchrony. Somehow, along the way, they became a team of their own, a strange sort of family forged in adversity. Daisy would say she loves Diana, as a sister, Bruce, as a brother. She will miss them, for sure. Coulson was more reserved, but she knows he cares for them as he does for their other team, in their world.

But The Gentleman comes back, and with his return, the four are sent away, each pair to their own world. There's no time to say goodbye, but maybe they don't need to.

Coulson and Daisy discover, as they go back to the lighthouse to find their team frantic after them. Not two hours have gone by. May, Jemma, Fitz, Simmons, Mack and Elena all look the same, are all confused when Daisy asks what day is it, what year, if the world is still in one piece.

So they know, for Bruce and Diana, it must be the same. Their loved ones have not aged, their world will be fine as well.

It's strange, how nothing changed. They are all the same, the world is the exactly same. Yet, everything changed, and Daisy manages to tear herself from Coulson's side only briefly, after days acclimating. She remembers how Jemma was, when she first came back from her own plight on an alien planet. But this is different. A whole life. Twenty-six years. Daisy and Coulson have lived a full life away, together. There's no going back from that, ever. There's no use being saddened by May's hurt gaze, when she sees them kiss. Or being bothered by the team's discomfort with their status. Daisy explains to them.

“We were everything there was. For twenty-four years, there was only us. I… we already loved each other, before we got there. But what that did to us, to what we feel. I can't explain it. It just is, it won't ever not be.”

It's not enough to fix it. Of course it isn't. But they pretend to understand, Daisy is sure they try their best. But Coulson talks to May and, one afternoon, Daisy is surprised when the older woman hugs her, so tightly her bones grind, and tells her she is happy they had each other over there. Daisy talks to Jemma, explains carefully, and out of all people here, she's sure Jemma knows the best what it was like. And she does, so she tells Fitz, who explains it to Deke, who realizes it's none of his business.

Mack and Elena are just happy Daisy and Coulson are well.

Life goes own, their own brand of it, full of pain and challenge and danger, but together, always. It all goes better than they thought it would. Daisy agrees to get her powers back when Fitz suggests it, to manipulate graviton so they can close the rift for good. It feels good, to feel everything vibrate again, after so, so long. It's almost like it's new, being able to do the things she is. A relief and a blessing, to know her power enough to be sure it won't ever be as destructive as Deke believed it to be.

When they find the machine that can create the Destroyer of Words, Coulson has no doubt about what to do with it. It's destroyed, before Jemma can even argue about studying it, about moving it somewhere safe. The graviton is buried, deep in the earth, where it should be.

Coulson is dying again, the wound in his chest expanding here, back in a place where time runs away, but Daisy is damned if she will let him go. She unearths her own mother, hunts down the last of a substance almost forgotten. Jemma and Fitz make the serum to save Coulson, which he takes as soon as it's ready. They fight the Kree when they come, and succeed, no losses suffered.

 

* * *

 

Life goes on. It's not easy, but they are together. And that's all they need.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the #39 and #40 issues of Batman (2017), which you can read online for free here https://  
> readcomiconline. to/Comic/Batman-2016/Issue-39?id= 129031 (just take the spaces out).
> 
> In turn, I found out about these issues through the incredible story by rosa_lunae, which I put as inspiration for this work, even if it's very different from mine. It's incredible, go read it guys.
> 
> As usual, I loooooooooooooooooooooveeeee feedback, don't mind criticism at all, and won't be offended if you point out errors or inconsistencies. I hope you guys liked it.


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